Tessa Takes a Holiday
by sandymg
Summary: When tracking a Shtriga, Sam and Dean meet an unexpected old acquaintance.
1. Chapter 1

**Tessa Takes a Holiday**

**Fanfic**: Tessa Takes a Holiday  
**Spoilers**: Set in Season 5. No specific spoilers. References _In My Time of Dying_ and _Death Takes a Holiday  
_**Genre**: Gen, angst, romance  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean/Tessa  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters. They belong to the CW and Eric Kripke -- who'd best treat them well.  
**Summary**: When tracking a Shtriga, Sam and Dean meet an unexpected old acquaintance.  
**Rating**: Mature themes. Some swear words.

**A/N**: This is my love song to Dean. Because his soul burns bright.

Chapter 1 of 4

You'd think it would be easier when they were old. Life lived fully. Memories. Relationships and binds that at least left the illusion of continuity. Immortality. Wasn't though. The old ones had the most to lose. The life they clung to had deep roots that pulled and struggled not to let go.

So Tessa was actually happy to be assigned a child. A boy who weighed so little now the angels themselves would have to look to be sure they were holding anything at all. His tiny face moved almost imperceptibly as she approached, lips trying to smile but too weak to form the shape. She saw it anyway. It was her gift to see things others could not. Made her one of the best at helping people pass.

Her concentration wholly on the waning heart pitter in front of her, she didn't see the door open. Didn't see the two tall men that stood shock-stricken in the doorway.

"Dean? You see her?"

"Yeah."

"Not good."

"You think?"

"What's it mean?"

"Damn if I know."

"I don't think she's, um, noticed us yet. It's not a Shtriga. We should go."

"Sam …"

"Dean. Seeing her is never good news."

"Sam."

"What?!"

That's when the taller one, Sam, turned and met Tessa's cool blue gaze. "This is a private room," she spoke firmly but calmly. "You can't be in here."

Sam yanked his partner's arm and walked backward the way they'd come.

The other one said, "What the hell?!"

And then they were gone.

Tessa immediately turned back to her little charge. "You'll be resting soon," she whispered moving close. "Your parents are almost here. I know that's why you are waiting. Such a good boy. They are so proud of you."

Eyes too weary to cry held hers. She touched his small, bird-like face and left to find his parents. Time was short. They needed the right whisper to bring them back. And let him go.

The hallway was empty but she knew they were near. There were so many things she just always knew. A gift and a burden. Huddled together, walking slowly as if facing the ultimate penalty themselves, the boy's parents turned the corner. They looked right through her as she knew they would. She was death. Who wanted to see that? Still, she had a job to do. This wasn't about the parents. It was about a little boy who'd fought so hard, for so long, and really needed to rest now.

She nodded to them as they approached and followed them wordlessly with her eyes as they entered their son's room. She knew she only had a few minutes before returning to the boy's side. Taking a deep cleansing breath she took one step forward before a deep gruff bark made her jolt.

"Okay. Why the hell can I see you?!"

She turned slowly. Faced the fiercest green eyes of her existence and said, "Dean?"

From around the corner the other man appeared, talking before he saw them and stopping short.

"Damnit Dean, nobody in their right mind goes looking for a freakin'—"

"Sam," Tessa said, in the same deliberate voice. She did calm well. Another of her gifts.

"Enough with the meet and greet," Green Eyes barked. "What gives?!"

She looked from one to the other assessing.

"You're brothers."

Of course. Obvious once you looked just a little.

Dean squinted his eyes in anger, while Sam's face muscles twitched. There wasn't more to say so Tessa simply returned to her task, leaving the boys standing open-mouthed behind her.

The scene in the room was as familiar as the sun rising after a long, cold night. One parent on each side of the bed, the speck of withering life lying between them. Tessa absorbed as much of their grief inside herself trying to help in any small way. She approached the bed from the front and touched the boys stick legs gently through his blanket. "Rest," she said softly as the monitors blinked a final time.

It was over and so she left the parents to their heartbreak. She knew how sad they were but it was better for the boy. That's the only thing that made this job tolerable.

She was surprised to see the brothers again as she stepped out of the hospital doors. They started silently trailing after her, not hiding their presence but not approaching her either. Fleetingly she wondered if she should be worried, except that she sensed they wouldn't hurt her. Still, how long could she allow this to continue?

Not wanting to turn around and tip her hand she approached a young man walking in the opposite direction. "Excuse me. Do you see those two men? Are they still walking this way?"

The young man nodded yes. "Is something wrong?"

Tessa felt around her, reaching out. "No. I don't think so," she said. "Thanks."

She moved on but slowed her pace enough to hear the one called Dean bellow, "What the hell Sam? Is everybody dying around here?"

"Don't know. Maybe it's like the last time. A slow down and now she needs to catch up."

Enough, Tessa thought. Her instincts were right most of the time but she wasn't infallible. At least here out in the middle of a public street she would be as safe as she was going to get.

She spun abruptly and asked with her steadiest voice, "Can I help you both?"

"Oh, so now you've decided to speak with us?" Dean said.

"It seems I have no choice. What is it you want?"

The taller one, Sam, avoided her eyes. Dean took a deep breath and met hers head on.

"Oh, I don't know, to know why the … why we can see you for one?"

She blinked. That stare could burn. "Are people often invisible to you?" she asked.

This time he blinked. "Cut the games Tessa. What's going on?!"

She filed away the fact that he knew her name. Eyes moving rapidly up and down from one to the other she assessed with all the arsenal at her disposal. There was a lot going on. None of it spelled danger. At least not to her.

"Why don't you tell me Dean, what is going on?"

She'd spit his name out at him in retribution for knowing hers.

"Dean …" Sam began. "There's something wrong."

"King of the blatantly obvious, Sammy."

"No, I mean, I don't think she's …"

"C'mon Tessa. You and me could always … talk. Are you in any trouble here?"

"We've spoken before?" she asked.

He looked at her puzzled. "You don't remember? We saved you in Greybull."

She smiled at him. "Really. I think I'd remember you."

She expected another comeback but instead got the start of a blush she knew only she could sense. This softened her. "Dean. Sam. I'm sorry. I can tell you both think you know me but I believe you have me confused with someone else. We haven't met."

Dean turned to Sam. "Could it be another one? You know, using the same, um, form?"

Sam gestured maybe and then got a gleam in his hazel eyes. "Tessa," he started out slowly. "Why were you in the hospital?"

"On a job."

The brothers looked at each other warily.

Sam continued gently. "Are we a job?"

Tessa's brow furrowed. "I hope not. Are you dying?"

Dean smirked, "Darlin' that's what we're trying to find out here."

She looked up at the heavens a moment before returning her gaze to the two impossibly handsome, hopelessly confusing men in front of her. "Maybe someone told you … it's not like that. I don't see the future. I don't see disease or impending accidents, nothing like that. I just help people clearly close to the end pass. It's what we do. Our jobs. Doesn't make us fortune tellers. People don't usually recover once we get the case. It's the end."

"Except for me," Dean said with an edge to his voice.

Tessa questioned him with her eyes.

"You said … well, one of you said, that I was the one that got away."

His eyes were bright and searching. It hurt to look at him too long. His soul was battered, destroyed and put back together. Images crashed through her of unbearable pain. Of its own volition her hand came up to gently touch his stubbly cheek. She sensed his miniscule tilt into her palm. He was so tired, so lonely.

His brother's voice broke the spell. "Dean. Maybe we should go."

"If you're not her, why do you have her name?" Dean asked. "And how did you know us?"

Tessa struggled to quell the flood of emotions that touch had given her. "I don't know you. I heard you use your names when speaking to each—"

The singing of her cell phone distracted her. Abba. Made her happy and she didn't care if others thought it silly. She dug in her handbag until she found it to check the caller ID.

As she went to answer it she heard Sam say, "Uh, Dean, since when do reapers have cell phones?"

**TBC**


	2. Chapter 2

**Tessa Takes a Holiday**

**Fanfic**: Tessa Takes a Holiday  
**Spoilers**: Set in Season 5. No specific spoilers. References _In My Time of Dying_ and _Death Takes a Holiday  
_**Genre**: Gen, angst, romance  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean/Tessa  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters. They belong to the CW and Eric Kripke -- who'd best treat them well.  
**Summary**: When tracking a Shtriga, Sam and Dean meet an unexpected old acquaintance.  
**Rating**: Mature themes. Some swear words.

**A/N**: This is my love song to Dean. Because his soul burns bright.

Chapter 2 of 4

Tessa made short work of getting rid of the person on the phone so she could give these boys her full attention. It didn't seem safe somehow to be distracted around them. She caught a little of their hushed conversation even as she was blowing her caller off and now thought she understood. It's not the first time someone used that slur in relation to her and her work. Occupational hazard.

They were huddled together murmuring quickly, Sam leaning his tall frame into his brother's space. It seemed to her to be a well rehearsed dance.

"Maybe she doesn't know what she is?"

Dean gave his brother a sideways look.

"Fine. Then you come up with something better!"

"A demon got to her."

This time Sam's face scrunched into the incredulous.

"What? It happened before."

"So why are we still here? Why hasn't she attacked? Okay, maybe not me, but _you_?"

"I don't know Sammy. This is an all new level of weird. Even for us."

"Eh-hem," she said clearing her throat to remind these two goofballs that the object of so much conjecture was still standing right in front of them.

She inhaled and sought her inner calm. This had happened before from time to time. Well, not exactly this. But something close enough. While she helped the dying she wasn't always a favorite around those left behind. It was normal for people to displace their anger. And she was the easiest possible target.

"I understand. I do. It's hard to lose someone. To let go. Maybe I, or someone just like me, was the last thing you saw as your loved one slipped away. So you transfer those emotions, some of them harsh, to me. Did it happen in the hospital? Was it recent?"

Even as she asked she didn't think there had been a very recent event. But there were losses. Many of them. She looked at both brothers intently. It made no sense. They each seemed to have lost the other.

Dean turned to Sam face open.

After a minute of eye contact Sam said, "I got nothing."

"Me neither," Dean retorted. Then he turned back to Tessa. "Lady you are the strangest reaper I've ever met."

She recoiled. That was such a nasty slur. "I wish you wouldn't use that word."

"Huh?" Dean asked.

"Reaper. I know some people use it casually like 'head shrinker' for a psychologist but really in our profession it's rather derogatory."

Sam's mouth twitched in almost amusement. "It's derogatory in your profession to be called a reaper?"

For heaven's sake how insensitive were these men? The green-eyed one blinked once and suddenly seemed like he had a clue. Eyes huge he stared at her with a mixture of incredulity and amazement.

"Sam …"

"What?"

He spoke to his brother but his eyes never left hers. "I think … I think she's human."

She giggled. Yep, guess he really was the sensitive one. What a huge discovery. But his expression remained awed and she could see neither of them thought that statement even remotely humorous.

Sam broke the silence first speaking very slowly as if she was a child or mentally impaired. "Eh. Tessa. Please, if you don't mind, can you tell us exactly what profession you are in."

"I thought you knew. Isn't that why you—"

"Humor us. Please," Sam said.

"I work for United Hospice Services."

Sam shut his eyes a second and ran his hand through his bangs exposing a strong boned forehead.

Dean tilted his head slightly and let out a soft, "Huh."

Something wasn't right. She didn't know what it was just that it was wrong. Who were these two men? How had they known _her_ name? Why were they staring at her as if she'd just come back to life? Her eyes flew back to Dean's. Why did he look like he'd lived so many more years than his age would indicate?

Lost for a moment she reached toward him without touching. "What happened to you?"

A wave of pain, fear, gut wrenching grief flashed out of him like a runaway spark. And then his face shut down. Sam looked between them awkwardly.

"We're sorry to have bothered you, Miss. It was … a misunderstanding." Turning to Dean he touched his arm. "C'mon."

His brother stood still a moment longer. Face blank he shuffled a second between feet. "Yeah," he said without feeling. And without going anywhere.

"Dean," Sam called again.

Tessa straightened her spine to gain as much height as she could. Both brothers were taller than her but Dean was more accessible than the younger one who seemed like he was in the clouds. "Who was she?" she asked.

"Who was who?"

"Tessa. The _other_ Tessa."

"She … helped me once."

Sam stared at his brother at this admission. Dean looked down, clearly uncomfortable now that it was out.

"Were you near death once?" she asked even though she already knew the answer. Truthfully she couldn't shake the feeling that it was more than near. It just didn't make sense.

"You could say that," he replied. "I'm kinda hard to kill."

She moved slightly so that she could try to catch his gaze again. "That's good. Isn't it?"

Dean didn't reply which tore her heart just a little more. How could someone so beautiful have such ugliness raging inside?

She looked up to meet Sam's soft hazel stare. Regret. Resignation. Love. It flooded her into almost overload. "Yes. It is," Sam said softly.

Something about Sam's quiet words stirred the spark back into Dean and he visibly seemed to shake himself out of whatever chains had temporarily held him. "Times a wastin' Sammy. Sorry we bothered you."

"Wait. Dean, we have to be sure."

"She's human Sam. How much more sure do you need to be?"

Sam turned away from Tessa a moment and lowered his voice. "No. I mean the Shtriga … just because it didn't attack that boy doesn't mean …"

Dean turned back to Tessa quickly. "Have there been many children dying lately?"

She looked at them oddly. "Last month. It was strange because they hadn't been sick before. It was so quick. I was called in almost too late. There wasn't time for a hospice. They just …"

"Died," Sam supplied.

Tessa nodded.

"Last month," Dean said hushed to Sam. "Think it's moved on?"

"Guess we were too late."

Dean shut his eyes a second at this and Tessa felt herself almost assaulted by the lash of self loathing.

"Who are you? How did you know about the children? What do you mean too late?"

"Too late to save them," Dean answered honestly.

Sam looked at him harshly, putting a hand on his arm. "Dean …"

She ignored Sam and kept her focus tight on Dean. "Could you have saved them?"

He looked at her a second and a universe of souls that still walked flashed before her. Walked because of him. Her eyes widened at his small nod.

"That's amazing," she said before realizing she'd spoken.

"Dean," Sam snapped. "What the hell is this? Have you been possessed by Dr. Phil? Enough with the sharing. Time to go."

"Lay off Sam … She looks just like the only person I was able to …"

"What?" Sam yelled back. "Die with?"

"No Sam. Rest. Just rest."

Energy bounced between them in sparkling reds and purples. She knew what love was, adored her parents to pieces, had even been in love once. This, she couldn't begin to describe.

Breaking the tension she said what had to be said. "There are still children in the hospital who became suddenly sick. The doctors are baffled. If you know something. If you can help them …"

The brothers looked at each other.

"Is there a motel nearby? Not too expensive?" Dean asked finally.

Sam said, "Excuse me. Dean. A word."

They took a few steps back. She heard most of it.

"She's very perceptive," Sam said.

Dean just looked at him.

"What are we going to say?"

"As much as we need to get the job done. Like always. Look, this is good news. Maybe we aren't totally too late."

Sam nodded. "I know. But Dean. She looks just like … what's that about?"

"I don't know. Maybe the real, the other Tessa, ran into her, you know … given her job and all. And she liked her … look."

Sam looked skeptical. "Dean. I only spent a few minutes with her … Tessa … reaper Tessa… still, I get the impression it's more than that. This woman reminds you of her, doesn't she?"

"Yeah. She didn't just pick up this woman's physical looks. It's … everything."

"And you can handle this?"

"Sure."

"Before …"

"Was off my game a minute. Not going to happen again."

"Dean. I know how tired you are."

"Sam. Don't. Let's get the job done and get out of here."

They turned back to Tessa who kept her face neutral despite what she'd heard. She gave them directions to the motel.

Dean looked at Sam a moment, hesitated, then spoke to her. "Can you get us into the hospital tonight? After regular hours when there are less people around?"

She didn't need to look at Sam to feel the disapproval cross his face. "I can. Will it help the kids?"

"Maybe," Dean answered.

She studied him. Truth. He shone with it.

"I'll help you. But only if you let me help, too. I deal with death all the time. Don't mind it. It belongs. It can even be good. But last month, some of the children. It was wrong. I'd never felt that before. So if we can stop it then I have to be there. Because I couldn't for the others."

She knows her eyes are wet but refuses to let the tears fall. Swallowing and breathing she fought for the self control that had been the mantra of her life.

Sam looked hesitant. Dean met her stare head on. "Okay," he said.

She let out a breath. "I'm sorry," she told Dean before he could walk away.

He looked at her puzzled.

"I'm sorry I look like her. That it's hard for you."

His stare turned inward. "Don't be," he said. "I'm not."

***

This morning she was a normal hospice worker given an assignment and fully equipped to do her job well. Now she was skulking around locked hospital doors with two of the oddest and handsomest men she'd ever seen. Her eyes drifted back to Dean. Hot did not begin to describe that man. And he knew it, sort of. Something about the way he'd catch her looking and returned her gaze with a little smirk. But there was no conceit. In fact there was abundance of the very opposite which puzzled more than anything.

Sam was more an enigma. He noticed her only in as much as she related to Dean. It didn't hurt her ego because he was younger than her and that had always been a bit of a turnoff. But she liked him. There were those seconds when he'd look from her to Dean and something akin to wonder passed through his expressive face. So many questions. She hoped he found his answers some day.

Her pass key worked and they were inside the records room fishing for the light switch. Sam was on the keyboard in a flash. She stared at his immediate familiarity with the hospital's archaic and she would have thought proprietary filing system.

"Always was a geek," his brother volunteered.

The words seem to pass through Sam who was busy pecking away in search of a pattern.

"What about you?" she asked. "Is he the brains and you the brawn?"

Sam made a scoffing noise. Dean looked from Tessa to Sam. "It's a pretty even … partnership."

That got Sam's attention and for a moment the brother's eyes met. A plethora of hurt, confusion, betrayal, sorrow, rage, love, blinding and absolute, threatened to consume her again. She took a step back away from them.

"You okay?" Sam asked as Dean peered down at her concerned.

"Yes. I … sometimes … never mind. You'll think me spookier than you already do."

"We don't think you're spooky," Sam said softly. "Why would you think that?"

Dean didn't say anything. The way his eyes avoided hers she figured she'd hit something right. Interesting how they reacted to her gifts differently. She met the older brother's gaze and forced him to hold on. He _knew_. Sensed it somehow. She wondered if it related to his near death experience. And whoever this mysterious other Tessa was.

"I only meant because of my job. Dealing with death so much. It makes some folks uncomfortable."

"We been around death plenty. Doesn't … Let's get on with this. Sam?"

"Got it. Six unexplained illnesses in the last two weeks. Four are still alive but in critical condition. Doctors don't think they'll make it."

"Same doctor?"

"No. Not that easy this time."

"There's got to be something linking these kids Sam."

Sam gave his brother a pained look. "There is."

Dean seemed annoyed. "Out with it."

"They all were assigned a counselor from United Hospice Services."

**TBC**


	3. Chapter 3

**Tessa Takes a Holiday**

**Fanfic**: Tessa Takes a Holiday  
**Spoilers**: Set in Season 5. No specific spoilers. References _In My Time of Dying_ and _Death Takes a Holiday  
_**Genre**: Gen, angst, romance  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean/Tessa  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters. They belong to the CW and Eric Kripke -- who'd best treat them well.  
**Summary**: When tracking a Shtriga, Sam and Dean meet an unexpected old acquaintance.  
**Rating**: Mature themes. Some swear words.

**A/N**: This is my love song to Dean. Because his soul burns bright.

Chapter 3 of 4

She felt the first frisson of fear around these men since meeting them so surreptitiously in that young boy's room. Two sets of ice-cold eyes held her captive. Dean blinked first and turned his head.

"No, man," he said on a hoarse whisper. "Just no."

"We don't know—"

"Sure we do. Of course we fucking do."

Tessa took a step back feeling glints of resentment, anger, frustration, dread, ping around her like fireflies trapped in a jar. Sam's expression was resigned. Dean looked ready to blow.

"You're good, I'll hand you that. So much for an ugly old woman. This disguise just rocks the prize at the Kasbah."

"I don't—"

"Save it. We ganked better than you on our Bingo night. Sam …"

The weapon suddenly pointed at her chest was large and menacing and beyond anything she'd ever come close to before. She looked up at Sam in shock. The steel in his eyes left her no doubt where this was going.

_Dean_. He heard her. She knew this. If only he would look at her. Reaching down deep for that well of calm that let her tell a six-year-old it was okay to die, she gave it all she had.

"Dean. Please. You said you wanted to help those children. This isn't the way. I'm not whatever you think I am. Think about it. I didn't make them sick. I don't see the children until all hope is gone. I only help them rest."

"Stop that," he grunted.

Tessa looked at him questioning the sadness in his eyes.

"Stop being her!"

Sam studied his brother a moment but never moved the gun from her sights.

She shuddered. It wasn't just that she looked like this other Tessa. Apparently something in her soul reminded him of her as well. For the first time in her life her gift spooked her. "You wanted to stay with her," she said gently. "To go with her."

"Shut up," he shouted. "You don't know anything. You're not even …"

"Dean. We can't kill her unless she's feeding," Sam interrupted.

"Fine." Dean opened his flannel shirt and pointed to his tee-shirt clad chest beneath it. "Come and get it bitch. All you can eat buffet. Maybe you'll get lucky and Sammy here will miss. Then you'll get away with the tasty treat and no check."

Both Tessa and Sam said "no" at the same time. Their eyes met over the barrel of that enormous shotgun. Why was she here? How had she allowed a couple of madmen to convince her that incurable children could be cured? She knew better. She had a lifetime of knowing better.

She was strong. Her friends often told her they had never met anyone as strong as she was, could never handle a job as stressful as hers. And her gift gave her a confidence about people. It was hard to lie to her, for instance. That's why this stung so much. How had she missed this? They were breathtakingly beautiful. And insane.

At the end of the day, the woman that helped others face death so well wasn't having as easy a time of it herself. She began to cry.

"Dean?"

"Beats me."

"Shtriga's cry?"

"No," Tessa answered gulping in air and fighting the shiver running through her. "Scared women cry when they feel threatened. Will you hurt me?" She kept her eyes on Dean. The younger one would follow his brother's lead. She only had to reach one of them.

"You're not a woman," Dean said.

Tessa almost smiled at this. She looked down at herself. Maybe she wasn't the prettiest girl or the curviest or even the smartest (that part was pretty certain) but she was most definitely a woman. Licking her lips she made Dean meet her steady blue gaze. Digging deep for the self possession that followed a long line of strong willed women in her family, she said, "You don't really believe that, do you?"

He took a step forward and grabbed her arm. Her instinct was to yank it away but she fought that back and stood stone still. She knew her stillness spooked some folks. Guessed it wouldn't bother Dean. Thought, _knew_, he knows this. It's familiar and safe. It lets him rest.

They were at a standoff. Sam's gaze never left Dean's face while his gun was aimed directly at her heart. Tessa knew her own heart was pounding fast, giving away the lie of her composure. His eyes burned into her, like he could hear the raging thunder. So hungry, she thought. Starving. It made her eyes well up again.

"What's a Shtriga?" she asked voice shakier than she liked.

"Albanian witch. Very old. They feed on _spiritus vitae,"_ Sam said.

"Life itself," she replied on a whisper. She looked back at Dean. "You wanted me to take your life force?"

He released her arm abruptly as if suddenly aware he was still holding it. "What are you?" he asked her.

Ignoring him she looked around suddenly. "You mean … there's something here, now, draining these children? Dean? Answer me, damnit, is that what this is about? We have to stop it. We can't let it … Oh God, while we stand here …"

She felt out, down corridors, into closed rooms. It wasn't possible this could be happening with her this close and she could be unaware. It's just that these men, these boys, distracted her. Waving shotguns and making her heart go all fast. Last time she'd ever let a pretty face make her forget who she was. How she was special.

Coldness swept through her, icy, ancient and malevolent. Shuddering hard she crossed her arms across her chest. "It's here," she said a bit awed.

Dean looked around.

"No, not here. In the children's ward. Consuming …" she couldn't go on. The child's pain and overwhelming hopelessness crept into her system and without someone … anyone, on her side she didn't know if she'd be able to escape.

_Dean_, she called out. But without speech she didn't know if he could hear.

He looked at his younger brother and pushed the shotgun down.

"Dean …"

"It's not her."

"How do you—"

"I do. Let's go get this sonofabitch."

**TBC**


	4. Chapter 4

**Tessa Takes a Holiday**

**Fanfic**: Tessa Takes a Holiday  
**Spoilers**: Set in Season 5. No specific spoilers. References _In My Time of Dying_ and _Death Takes a Holiday  
_**Genre**: Gen, angst, romance  
**Characters**: Sam, Dean/Tessa  
**Disclaimer**: I don't own Supernatural or any of its characters. They belong to the CW and Eric Kripke -- who'd best treat them well.  
**Summary**: When tracking a Shtriga, Sam and Dean meet an unexpected old acquaintance.  
**Rating**: Mature themes. Some swear words.

**A/N**: This is my love song to Dean. Because his soul burns bright.

Chapter 4 of 4

They approached the ward stealthily. Dean explained how it could only be killed when feeding.

"What if you hit a child instead?"

"I won't."

"You've faced this before?"

A look passed between brothers. Instantly, she understood. It had come for his baby brother. Was that the loss she felt? Except it didn't feel right. The devastation she'd felt was recent. And they both had it.

"You stopped it," she said. "When it came for Sam."

"Our Dad did," he answered before turning to stare at her in an open question.

She tried to explain. Frightening him was never her plan. "I sense things sometimes. Read between the lines. You two are … closer than most."

They both fidgeted some at this. "It's good. You have each other's backs. Always." On the last word she spoke only to Dean. Knowing without words he needed this more than the air he breathed. He looked away but not before something lightened in his stance.

"Let's do this Sam."

They passed each bed slowly. The children were fighting numerous infections and were hooked up to IV drips. Some had plastic tenting to help keep them from getting reinfected. Tessa stopped before the bed of a little girl. "This one and the one before," she said in hardly a whisper. "It's already …"

"How do you--?"

"Dean, she's an empath. Think about it. It's why Tessa, the other … used her as a model."

Dean looked at her with something she couldn't describe. Didn't happen much. If she had to force a word to it, she came up with longing.

"So you're the _real_ Tessa," he said softly. Their eyes met and the rush she got just about floored her. Whoa. It was like a switch went off in his head and things he hadn't let himself think or feel before were rising up like a wild surf on a Hawaiian shore. She took a step backward. Someone like this you didn't play with … not when he'd already been through more pain than she could even fathom. It was all in, or not at all.

A bit awkward, Sam said. "It's gone but it'll be back. There are two kids left. I'm guessing we caught it on a break. Good chance it's still someone on staff here. Nurse maybe. They would cover all the kids."

Tessa quickly confirmed this with a nod.

"We need to move that boy. Roll the bed somewhere else and put another one in its place." Dean said.

"Okay," Tessa said. "This way."

They shifted the last two children to the other side of the floor and replaced their spots with empty beds.

Sam and Dean stared at each other a moment and then back down to the empty bed.

"I'll do it," Sam said. "You're the better shot."

"Right. Because the Shtriga's so gonna believe Sasquatch is a child."

Tessa looked at them both. "What are you …"

"I'll do it," Dean said in a tone that she was certain ended most conversations.

Sam's expression twisted into an exaggerating whine.

"Is he always like this?" she asked him.

"Pretty much."

"It's hard for him to risk you, Sam."

Those hazel eyes grabbed her. "It's hard for me, too."

"Hey, if Dr. Phil and Dr. Laura are through with the daily sap me to death program we have a monster to hunt here!"

"Dean," Tessa began slowly. He wouldn't like this. She braced. "The only one of us that could possibly fool anyone into believing it was a child in that bed is me."

"No way."

"Dean. Please. I spend every day helping kids die. Let me. Just once. Help them to live."

Sam looked away. After a moment he stepped a bit further back. She knew he was on her side. But that didn't mean he'd oppose Dean.

She approached Dean and invaded his personal space so she knew he'd hear her. He was sensitive but proximity counted. Close enough to feel his breath she whispered, "I know. It should be you. Always be you. But it doesn't have to be. Dean, you're not alone. A soul like yours has touched so many. We're all here. We all care. Let me do this. Not for you. For me."

He had his hands in her hair and looked at her like she was someone way older than she felt. For a second a flicker of jealousy seared her with a vicious sting.

"Don't," he said so softly she wasn't sure it was spoken or just in her mind. "You don't want to be her. I don't want you to be her."

Sam coughed gently. "We need to make a decision."

She didn't wait for Dean to say anything more. Touching his cheek again gently she promised him something with her eyes and then slipped under the cool sheets.

Tessa made herself as small as she could. She knew she wasn't child size but it was dim in the ward and if the … thing … was hungry enough it shouldn't matter. She felt pretty calm considering that she was laying here as bait for a monster. Especially as just that morning she would have sworn on two stacks of bibles they didn't exist. Of course, she didn't believe in the bible either.

She didn't see either brother as they'd taken strategic positions while they waited. This is what they did, she pondered with amazement. Fought monsters. More than that, they faced evil. So wrong. Blacker than the emptiest void. She'd known something was going on. The world seemed off the past few months. She'd receive flashes of anger, rage, an intensity of emotions that scared her. And they were so random. Once or twice she'd even seen the shadow of a missing soul take over someone's eyes.

Dean saw this. Felt it from a place so bleak it defied description. And a light, too beautiful to conceive of, had pulled him. Saved him. And now this man, this warrior, was here. In her little hospital. She reached out … _let me in_, she wanted to shout. The cloak remained. So afraid. More alone than anyone should ever have to be. _Sam_, she reached out. _Sam try to see_. _It's scary. Scares me and I hardly know him. With love like that you have to give till there's no more. Because he'll do that. Only he won't ask for anything and if you let him, he'll disappear one day. And this time, not come back._

Tears again. What the hell? Tessa knew she had to compose herself. This was no time to break down like a damn girl. She felt the cold before anything else. Icy fingers coming ever closer. A feeling of alarm, tension, a snap of fear … for her. _Dean. It's okay. I need to do this. You are good. Always were. Kill this thing. End it._

The cold radiated through her to leave a burning trail. God. She couldn't open her eyes. Couldn't move. She'd stopped breathing and her lungs burned, hungered. A white light flickered a moment in front of her. The calm returned. She saw a woman, wearing all white. A woman who wore her face. "I knew he'd find you," the woman said. "He can't stay. Know this. But tell him to return here. To you. When it's over. Tell him to rest, not with me, but with you. If he lives, I give him to you." The woman faded back into the light. Somewhere, far away, there was panic, desperation.

"Dean. Take the shot!"

"Can't. It's too close, I'll hit Tessa."

Oh God, it was pulling so much harder now. She felt the tendrils of her life, of her soul, coming frayed. Undone. _Dean_.

He appeared as a blur above her, fast, driven, lethal. The ice was ripped from her mouth, her veins, her chest. She gasped wildly for air as the warmth penetrated her bones. Relief was short. Fear. Spine tingling, paralyzing. _No! Sam. Help him. Do something_.

She rose up a touch to see the thing … uglier than death itself sucking on the most beautiful soul she'd ever seen. "No!" she sputtered out through a throat returning from its own version of hell. Wrath. Determination. Not. My. Brother!

Sam shot.

The evil dissolved in a whirl of smoke leaving only gray useless tendrils in its wake. Sam ran to his brother, eyes wide and glassy.

"'M okay," Dean sputtered. "Tess …a."

"Fine. I'm fine," she said in as strong a voice as she could muster.

Sam helped Dean up and walked him over to the bed where she'd managed to sit up. He sat next to her and she threw herself into his arms because at that moment she didn't know of anywhere else she belonged.

Out of the corner of her eye she saw Sam start to shift away. She reached a hand up to him, grabbing his for a minute and smiling weakly, before returning her attention back to Dean. "You did it," she said to him moving herself back a tad to try to catch his eye, see and not just feel, that he was okay.

"Sammy did it," Dean replied reaching up to grip his brother's forearm a second.

Something passed between these two wonderful men. And in that moment she cherished her gift because not everyone would have seen it. It had to be felt. To be allowed within their unbreakable link felt like a privilege.

They made their way slowly out of the hospital. In the parking lot Sam took Tessa's hand. "Thank you. Not everyone would have … Just, thank you."

"We saved those children," she said because that was enough to warrant any further talk of this beyond unnecessary.

Sam looked from her to his brother. Dean was holding his hand at her waist. She didn't know if he even realized it.

"My car's over there," she said.

"Dean, why don't you make sure Tessa gets home safely?"

He was about to go but Tessa stepped up on her tippy toes to kiss his cheek. "Sam. It's okay." She pulled in closer and he leaned in instinctively so that she was able to whisper in his ear. "You'll keep him safe."

Stepping back his eyes locked with hers so naked they were ripped bare. _Or die trying_. Closing her eyes to his mute reply she fought the fear she'd never see him again. She didn't know. She'd told the truth about her limitations.

Dean walked her quietly to her car. They drove in silence, her heart pounding. Was it real? The vision. Had she made it up to satisfy some fantasy? She'd never have called herself a romantic. She liked men. Had had one long-term relationship that went nowhere. Dated when she could. This. Was something else.

In her driveway she didn't get out. She didn't know how. He reached down to kiss her as she knew he would. Felt it happening before his lips touched hers. "Different," he murmured. "Warm. Not cold."

She deepened the kiss as her body started to flush. "Mmm. Very warm. Hot."

Familiar and new. The sensations merged in a sensory overload. Nobody had ever kissed her like he did. That hunger that she'd felt simmering was a torrent now pulling her in as their tongues mated and licked and teased. His hands in her hair kept pulling her closer till she felt every inch of his hard muscles straining against her. It wasn't possible to feel this much, this soon. Didn't make sense. Lust. Had to be.

He pulled back and they caught up on breathing. He looked as stunned as she felt. Made her want to giggle and so she did. His eyes lit up as a smile curved his lips. "Yeah," he said licking his lips.

She felt her heart hammer. Felt his heart hammer. That part wasn't unusual for her. The perfect synchronicity … that was new. "You could come in."

He wanted to, you hardly needed any special gift to know that. But she knew a lot more. This part of the vision, at least, was deadly true. The regret poured off him in waves. He'd already left.

Self preservation warred with the need to give. Now it would only hurt some. Tomorrow it would pierce. _If he lives, I give him to you_. She didn't know either, the woman, the reaper, she realized suddenly with the clarity of the newly in love. The reaper that had let him go once already. Nobody knew if he'd ever come back. She kissed him again softly, took a calming breath and let her mind go. She knew instantly that she'd reached him by the way his breath hitched.

"You sure?" he asked.

She opened her car door and waited patiently for him to follow.

They didn't speak much. Usually she was always fairly sparing on words. Perhaps unusually so for a woman. But he was so sensitive to her she felt like she was babbling nonstop. His body reacted in advance of her needs in a way that almost frightened. He took his shirt off in one sinuous movement the moment they hit her bed. Her eyes widened at the smooth unblemished skin and looked up at him puzzled.

"What?" he asked while tugging up on her shirt. She lifted it up and over her head but couldn't stop from drawing her fingertips over the scars that she felt but couldn't see.

"I don't … you were hurt." The word didn't begin to describe the terrors she felt. He stiffened but didn't pull away from her touch. She shut her eyes a moment and took it in. Years, decades of such excruciating pain it threatened to take her breath away. "God," she murmured.

Eyes never leaving her he said softly, "God has nothing to do with me."

"But you're alive."

At that he shuddered and looked away. Shame. Anger. Venomous wrath. Hard eyes turned back to her, daring her, threatening her. "Still sure you want to do this?"

She was scared. It was impossible not to be. Evil looked back at her forcing her to look harder, look deeper, see under it all. Damnit. What was left of Dean? Tears trailing down her face she searched for the man at the center of the turmoil. The one that they all wanted. All used. He waited patiently for her to kick him. It's what he did. What he deserved.

"No." It had come out harsher, louder than she'd realized. "You … you can't see it. You don't see it. Look Dean. Look harder. It's still there. That light. It glows brighter than the rest. The darkness can't fight when that light is around. That's why …"

She shut up. He didn't need words. She'd said them for herself and because maybe one day he'd see on his own. Now he just needed this. She put her lips back to work in a much more pleasurable way, tasting him the way he'd tasted her. Giving more than even he could return because once, just once, she wanted him to know what that was like. They'd taken so much. Not tonight. He needed to rebuild. Urging him to her with ever frantic moves she let him feel everything inside her as they made love. It was scary. She'd never opened up like this before, never thought a man could stand it if truth be told. But this wasn't any man. Death itself had gifted her this man. Letting go was not an option.

Later when he was able to speak he'd leaned over her and said, "Jeeze, I … Damn Tessa."

She giggled. "Yeah."

He squeezed her against his side and raised himself up on his elbow to look at her. One hand moved her hair softly away from her face. He was so gorgeous she thought she was dreaming. "You know, right?" he asked catching her stare.

Regret again. Sadness. Tiredness. "That you have to leave? Yes."

"There's this … war."

"They want you." A sudden insight hit. "Oh. And Sam."

At his brother's name the emotions soared. "Don't think it," she said. "Won't happen."

"What?" he said.

"You won't kill him."

He studied her a moment surprised, yet not, at how much she just knew.

"Then the world ends."

"So it ends," she said calmly. Cool blue eyes trying to chill that fiery fear out of his. "Those of us who … love … we'll still be here. You and your brother, _being brothers_, that won't end the world Dean. It can't. It is the world. Or at least what's good about it."

He leaned in to kiss her gently before moving back to play with her hair again. "Are you really just a girl?"

She laughed. "Yes."

"Tessa?"

"Mmm?"

He didn't have to say anything because their shared emotions filled her so completely she thought it surely radiated out of her hands and feet and eyes.

"I could …"

"I could, too, Dean."

She took a deep breath. Unsure if this should be shared or not.

"What?" he asked sensing her unease.

Earlier tonight, when the monster … I saw her Dean."

"The Shtriga?"

"No. Tessa. The one you met first."

Fear travelled through him so quick she held him before he could get a word out. "No. Not like that. It's not my time yet. She had a message for me."

He was still uncomfortable and held onto her like letting go would make her vanish on the spot.

"She said that she knew you'd find me. That I should tell you to come back. Not to her. To me."

He avoided Tessa's eyes and in that instant she knew that indeed it might be a competition one day. Tears flowing freely now she made him look at her. "You choose everyone life's above your own Dean. I can't change you. Would never want to. Just see yourself, once, like I do. Feel it Dean. Value it. She said she was giving you to me. Like a gift. It doesn't work that way though. She doesn't have that kind of power." _Only you do_.

Dean looked down at her, eyes moist and reaching. "A reaper just gave me life," he said softly before kissing her again more fervently than ever before.

And for that instance, when they were one, she mirrored back the man she saw – brave, strong, smart, loyal, loving beyond measure. And in her mind's eye, he smiled.

_**fin**_


End file.
